Finding home
by KAME
Summary: Pam goes out for the night with the ladies of Dunder Mifflin, while Jim stays at home, trying to figure out exactly where that is.


As he pulled his comforter back, and plopped into bed, Jim realized that this was the first night in a long time that he was sleeping in his own bed, and it was even longer since he had slept alone. He didn't like (but hypocritically didn't mind either) being one of those guys who didn't know how to fill time when their girlfriends were out. It wasn't until he found himself on his own that he realized that he and Pam spent almost all their time together. This was now coupled with the fact that he could barely find enough clothes at his apartment to put together an outfit that he could wear in public, as most of his clothes had found their way into Pam's dresser.

Tonight, after dropping Pam off at Meredith's for her Divorce Anniversary party, Jim had made his way back to his apartment. It wasn't that he didn't _like _his apartment; he figured that it just came down to the fact that his apartment wasn't Pam's. His smelt musty and unlived in (he supposed it didn't help that he hadn't properly cleaned it since a few weeks after he and Pam started dating). Pam's apartment always smelt amazing—a combination of vanilla, clean laundry and the faintest whiff of her coconut shampoo. Her apartment also was filled with tonnes of little pieces of her: pictures of her nephew, family, and lately, of the two of them were framed on the shelves in her living room; with newer pictures finding a home on the fridge. She had plants and actual art on her walls instead of beer posters; and she even had placemats for her table. Jim just hadn't put that effort into his apartment when he had moved in. All the furniture was hand-me downs from him and Mark's old apartment, and smelled like wet dog most of the time. The shrill ring of the phone on his bedside table shook him out from underneath his thoughts "Hello?" Jim answered the phone without thinking and immediately realized his mistake, mentally chastising himself for picking up the phone. Since 7:30pm Michael had been calling him to try out new material that he was gleaning from watching DVD's of the Three Stooges. Michael had told him in phone call #3 that he figured that he could revolutionize sales calls by incorporating what he called "A Three Stooges Three Step Sales Plan for Sointen Sales". So far Michael had called five times, and Jim was reminded of yet another reason why Pam's apartment was better than his, she had caller ID. Jim winced as he waited for the person on the other end of the receiver to speak, thankfully it wasn't Michael.

"Hi! The party's over, wouldyou mind coming to getme?"

Was she slurring her words?

"Beesley, have you been drinking?"

"Yeah, ha. Drinks. Seriously though, can you come get me, closer to now rather than later?"

"Sure thing" Jim kicked the covers off and swung his legs over the side of his bed, catching a glimpse of the clock: 2:13 am. "Are you at Meredith's still?"

"No."

"Oh, did you guys go to Poor Richard's?"

"No."

"Cooper's?"

"Nooooo…kind of sorta warmer, but also kind of really cold. Cold, chilly, well, not chilly anymore" and with that Pam erupted into loud… well, guffaws would be the only way to describe what was coming out of Pam at that moment, and he was helpless to do anything but laugh along with her.

"Ok then Drunk Beesley, tell me where you are and I will come and collect you in my silver chariot of chivalry"

The background noise was muffled as Pam covered the mouthpiece with her hand, then the din was returned with Pam's voice "425EastPine" was blurted into receiver.

"East Pine? Really? What took you guys down there?"

"Funny story…It's only me that's here actually, I kind of got separated from the rest- Listen Jim, I can't talk mush longer, can you just come soon?"

As Jim followed the no nonsense sheriff through the maze of grey painted cement, brightly lit halls at 425 East Pine, he couldn't keep the smirk off his face when he thought of the story the humorless sheriff had just told him about Pam. Ms. No-nonsense stopped suddenly, held out the clipboard and pointed one dangerously long fingernail to where he was to sign. Jim signed the paperwork, and Ms No-nonsense pointed and then turned and went back in the same direction that she had just come. When he turned towards the room that she had pointed to, he found Pam, sitting on a long metal bench affixed to one of the grey concrete walls. Completely oblivious to Jim being there, Pam was very much engrossed in the telling of a story to a very provocatively dressed lady of the evening. The drunk tank, confirming Jim's amused suspicions, was stark. Aside from Pam and her one lady audience it was just two metal benches along two drab grey walls with a toilet stuck haphazardly in the right hand corner of the cell. Although, for all it mattered Pam looked at though she was in her living room talking to an old friend. Her hands were in mid-air, animatedly describing an obviously pivotal moment in her story. Stopping her story in mid-sentence she followed the gaze of her audience, and turned to see Jim standing at the front of the tank.

"Jim! Hey, Brandi, this is Jim, my Jim, well, really he's my boyfriend Jim. I was just telling Brandi about how the Dundies and Michael, and the time that I won the Dundie for The Whitest Sneakers" Pam, with her hair astray and mussed up clothes, bounced over to Jim a little lopsidedly and flashed him a huge grin "Hi" she said again, this time standing in front of him at the bars at the front of the drunk tank.

"Fancy new hangout Beesley?"

"As a matter of fact, yes it is. What do you think? " She fanned her hand out and around the cell, with a flair and technique that rivaled Vanna White's "I always wanted some place with a minimalist feel to it, do you think that this works?"

"Well, it definitely has its positive attributes doesn't it? Less space to clean with a great security system. We would always have guests, mostly uninvited and drunk, but company is company right? We might have to figure out something for cooking though; I just don't think that the toilet can handle our culinary needs"

Pam turned around again and looked at the cell and nodded while tapping her index finger to her chin, "Hmm…excellent point Halpert, excellent point, but you can't deny that the open concept is really something else. Don't you love how you can just use the bathroom right there in the open, no need for doors, or well, any furniture at all really."

"Now that you mention it, it is a fabulous place for hosting parties, and if we ever had a work party, Creed would be sure to feel at home here, so that's a definite bonus. Yep, I am definitely starting to warm up to it.

"See! I knew you would love it! Let's talk to the land lady about putting down a deposit!"

"I'm one step ahead of you Pam, the deposit has been paid, and the paperwork signed. The open house is over now, but she said to make sure and come back the next time you are in the neighborhood breaking the restraining order that Chili's has against you"

Pam's eyes got wide and she then looked at him with a face that was three parts mischief and one part sheepishness. "They just have really good drinks there, and it's been like 3 years since that little snafu…I figured I could go back. I did underestimate the degree of exposure my picture would get posted on the wall behind the cash though; apparently I am rather infamous in the world of Chili's, wow…maybe we could just go home. No wait! Grease run and THEN home." Jim held out his hand to her and thread his fingers through Pam's, they said their goodbyes to Brandi and made their way out of the Scranton Police Station and out to the silver chariot of chivalry.

Precariously balancing the grease stained paper bag of food and the double chocolate milkshakes, Jim dug around in his pocket for his car keys while trying to open the restaurant doors with his left elbow. As his hand touched upon the keys in his pocket he looked over towards the car parked under the lone street light in the parking lot, and chuckled as he saw two inches of Pam's coat fluttering in the wind. Reaching the car, he slid his key into the lock and opened the door to the soft sounds of Pam snoring. Looking over at her, with her head cradled in her palm propped up against the window, he managed to quietly squeeze the food down to the floor beside Pam's feet. He started the car and they made their way home.


End file.
